“Daniel, put me down!”
He lowered her to the ground and dropped his arms abruptly.
“Sorry,” he said. But his grin showed no remorse.
Daniel walked beside Corrie, talking fast. Corrie smiled. He always talked fast when he was excited.
“We serve a mostly Hispanic population. A lot of our kids are in the States illegally, but some were born here. Their parents are almost all illegal. We’ve had to work hard to gain their trust. INS shows up on a regular basis, but Capri usually handles that.”
Corrie took notes and snapped pictures of kids playing games, being tutored, shooting hoops. In one room, a group of pregnant girls practiced diapering dolls. In another, preschoolers played a frenetic game of Simon Says.
“Tomorrow, I’ll set you up to meet with our board of directors,” Daniel said as they walked. “And then you can tour the transition apartments. We have ten units, with three bedrooms each. Kids who are aging out of foster care rent the apartments. The first year they pay a hundred dollars a month, the second year two hundred, the third year three hundred. After that, we hope they’re ready to move out on their own. We’ve had a couple dozen kids go through them already, and most are independent now.
“Hey,” he added, “you should talk to Capri about the apartments. She’s one of our graduates. Maybe you could come to dinner tonight, and she can tell you about her experience.”
“I don’t know, Daniel.” Corrie wasn’t sure she wanted to have dinner with Daniel and the pierced young woman. “I probably should go back to the hotel and write up my notes.”
“Come on.” He tugged at her arm. “I’ll cook.”
Corrie stared at him and grinned. “You’ll cook? Since when do you cook?”
“I’ve been on my own for ten years, Coriander Bliss. I’ll have you know that I’m a great cook. I make a mean vegan stir-fry.”
“Are you a vegetarian?” Corrie remembered Daniel’s love of bacon from their time together.
“Hell, no.” Daniel declared. “I still love bacon . . . and a good steak. But Capri’s a vegan.”
Corrie wondered how often Daniel cooked for his receptionist. Maybe every night?
“Capri and I are roommates,” Daniel said suddenly, as if reading her thoughts.
“Ah,” Corrie said, her cheeks reddening. Of course he’s involved with her. What did I expect? That he’s been waiting for me all these years?
“Just roommates,” Daniel continued, seeing her red cheeks. “We used to be involved, sort of, but Capri has a lot of issues—trust issues. She got dumped in foster care when she was nine and then bounced around from home to home. I don’t think she’ll ever be able to commit to anyone.
“Anyway, she splits the rent with me and we cook together sometimes. Otherwise, she does her thing and I do mine.”
Corrie nodded, not raising her eyes from the sidewalk. What did it matter whether Daniel was involved with Capri, or with anyone? And why did he feel like he had to explain himself to her?
“Hey, freak girl,” Daniel said as they entered the front lobby.
“Fuck you,” Capri replied cheerfully.
“What are you up to tonight?”
“Going to the Voodoo Lounge with Mia.”
“Skip it,” Daniel said. “Stay home and have dinner with Corrie and me. She wants to interview you for her story.”
“Daniel . . .” Corrie started to interrupt. She hadn’t agreed to dinner.
“Yeah?” Capri smiled. “I guess that’d be okay. I’ve never been interviewed before.”
“Good, that’s settled.” Daniel glanced from Capri to Corrie. “So, do you have a car here? You can just follow me back to the apartment. It’s kind of hard to tell you how to get there.”
So Corrie found herself back in her rental car, following Daniel through a maze of back streets toward La Cañada. She hadn’t agreed to dinner, but she couldn’t refuse once Capri agreed to be interviewed. She pulled out her cell phone as she drove and dialed Sarah’s number.
“Hi. How are you?” Sarah’s voice was a welcome return to the familiar.
“Okay, I guess. I just finished touring the center. It’s pretty amazing.”
“How was it, seeing Daniel again?”
“Okay,” Corrie said, cradling the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she turned a corner, trying to keep up with the blue VW Bug ahead of her. “It was nice, actually. He’s living with a woman named Capri. She works at the center, too.”
There was a pause. Then Sarah asked cautiously, “Did you meet her?”
“Yes,” Corrie said, proud to hear that her voice was calm. “She’s really interesting . . . Asian, with lots of piercings and a couple tattoos. And she’s got the weirdest color eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Anyway, how are you?” Corrie asked. “I’m sorry I missed your call earlier.”
“I’m fine, just sitting around waiting. The doctor says eight more weeks, and I am so ready.” Sarah’s voice sounded tired.
“Well, at least wait till I get home!” Corrie laughed. “I want to be there when my namesake makes her appearance.”
“When are you coming home?”
“Thursday morning,” Corrie said. “I have a nine o’clock flight.”
“Have you talked to Mark?”
“Not yet,” Corrie replied. “I’ll call him later tonight. I’m going to an interview right now.”
“Well, don’t forget to call him. He’s really not happy with this trip, Corrie.”
“I know.” Corrie sighed. “But he’ll be all right. I’ll call him later. I have to go now, Sarah. I’m just getting onto the freeway.”
In reality, she was pulling into a driveway behind Daniel.
“Okay, be careful. And Corrie?”
“Yeah?”
“Be good!”
“I will.” Corrie laughed as she hung up the phone.
The Spanish-style stucco apartment building climbed up the side of a hill, each unit stacked above and slightly behind the one below. Corrie parked her car in the lot at the base of the hill and followed Daniel up a long flight of stairs to the top unit.
“This is nice,” she said as she stepped inside. The building was old, with ceramic tile floors and arched doorways. The south-facing wall was entirely windows, opening onto a patio, built on the roof of the apartment below. The afternoon sun shone bright through the windows, creating a golden glow.
“Yeah, it is,” Daniel agreed, watching Corrie. “I’ve been here for seven years now. Do you want to see the rest of it?”
They walked from the front room to the tiny kitchen, which was filled with electronic gadgets.
“Capri’s,” Daniel explained, grinning. “She loves to buy cooking gadgets, but she never cooks.”
He opened a door to a small bedroom. A single bed graced the corner, strewn with women’s clothes. A vanity was littered with jewelry, makeup, and hair products. A black bra hung from a corner of the mirror.
“She’s a slob,” Daniel said. “But at least she keeps the mess confined to her room.”
After Capri’s room was a short hall with a small bathroom. The counter there was also strewn with makeup and skin-care products. “Mostly confined to her room,” Daniel corrected himself, laughing.
He opened the door at the end of the hallway, and Corrie stepped into the second bedroom. Antique oak furniture filled the room, at the center of which stood a huge, four-poster bed, the covers neatly drawn. Several paintings hung on the walls. Corrie stopped beneath one and touched it with one finger.
“This is really nice,” she said softly, admiring the brushstrokes, the subtle play of colors and texture.
“Isn’t it?” Daniel stood just behind her. Corrie could feel his warmth. “All of these were painted by one of our graduates. His name is Darrel, and he was a foster kid. When he showed up at the center, he was eighteen, just kicked out of his last foster home. He didn’t have his diploma, no job . . . just a whole lot of attitude.
; “So we got him into one of the apartments, and he started working on his GED. One day he showed me his drawings, and I was just blown away. They were so good. So I gave him a job at the center, teaching art classes to the younger kids. And after he got his GED, we found him a grant so he could go to art school.
“He’s pretty successful now. Sells his work at a couple galleries in North Hollywood. But he still teaches twice a week at the center.”
“Wow.” Corrie walked toward another painting. “You must be really proud.”
“Of what?” Daniel asked. “I didn’t teach him to paint.”
“No, but you gave him his first job, found him a place to live, helped him get into school.”
She turned to smile at him. “No wonder you’re so passionate about the center. You wanted to make a difference, and you’re doing it.”
“You have to meet Darrel!” Daniel said. “Maybe he can come by the center tomorrow.”
“That would be great.” She smiled at him again, then let her eyes wander around the room, until they finally rested on the bed.
“Um, so . . . can I see the patio?” She walked out of the bedroom abruptly.
Stopping in the kitchen, Daniel poured her a glass of cabernet.
“You still drink it red?” he asked as he handed her the glass.
She nodded, pleased that he’d remembered.
The view from the patio was stunning. They stood gazing at the late afternoon sun, just dipping behind the Southern California hills.
“This is really beautiful,” Corrie said softly. And it could have been mine.
Stop it! Don’t think like that.
She resolutely avoided looking at Daniel, standing beside her.
“Yeah, it’d be perfect if not for the noise. You can’t live anywhere in the L.A. Basin and be far from the freeway.”
The sound of rush-hour traffic hummed in the background.
“Still, it’s a hell of a lot nicer than my first place.”
“Where was that?” Corrie asked, dropping into a lawn chair.
“When I first came out, I rented a place in South Central L.A. It was a dump, but it was cheap. I got a job working at a men’s shelter. God, that was a nightmare . . . right in the middle of gang turf. We had guys get shot at least once a week. Most of them were addicts, the rest were predators. It was hell on earth, even for me. And I only had to work there. I can’t imagine what it was like for the guys who lived there.”
“How did you end up in L.A.? I thought you went to New York.”
“I was there for a year, but man, I just couldn’t handle the city. Too big, too cold, too depressing, even for me. So, I figured people needed help in warm places, too. And I bought a bus ticket and came. Didn’t know anyone out here at first. Just worked and slept.”
He turned to look at Corrie, her auburn hair shining copper in the setting sun.
“That’s why I never called, you know.”
She didn’t answer, just stared at the sky, turning orange now.
“I couldn’t ask you to live like that.”
He sat in silence for a minute and then poured more wine into Corrie’s glass.
“Anyway, I’d been out here for about a year and was working in the shelter when this gangbanger comes in looking for a guy who shot his brother. He found me instead. I tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t in a talking mood.”
Daniel smiled at Corrie’s face, now turned toward him, her eyes wide.
“He shot me,” he said quietly.
“My God, Daniel! I didn’t know. Why didn’t you . . . why didn’t you call me? I never even knew.”
“I thought about it,” Daniel continued. “I wanted to. But what was I going to say? ‘Hey, Corrie, I know I walked out on you two years ago and never called you or even wrote. But now I’m shot and I want you.’ I couldn’t do that.”
“Were you hurt bad?”
“I got hit in the side. I turned away just as he shot. The bullet went straight through without hitting anything major. I got lucky.”
“I wish you’d called. I hate to think about you all by yourself in the hospital.”
“My mom was there.”
“She must have been hysterical.”
“Actually, she was pretty good about it.” Daniel smiled, shifted in his chair, and sipped his wine. “She wanted me to come home, of course. But she knew I wouldn’t. She knows I need to be doing this.”
“I always liked your mom.” Corrie smiled, remembering the red-haired woman so passionately devoted to human rights.
“She liked you, too. She wanted me to call you.”
They sat in silence for a minute.
“Anyway,” Daniel said, “I decided I really didn’t like working with adults. Most of the guys at the shelter were beyond helping. I wanted to get to kids before they were lost. So I hooked up with a guy who was working at a community center in Van Nuys, and we applied for a grant to start the center here.
“Nick had all the right contacts. His family is wealthy . . . he knew how to work the system. So we got a start-up grant and found a building, and that’s how we opened the center.”
“Is Nick still around?” Corrie didn’t remember anyone named Nick at the center.
“He got married a couple years ago and decided he needed to make a real living wage. He’s working for the state now, doing something with computers. But he still comes by. Last year he got us a bunch of computers from some office that was upgrading.”
“And now you’re doing what you always wanted to do.” Corrie smiled at him, leaning back in her chair. “You must be really proud.”
Daniel leaned forward, setting his glass on a small table.
“I’m not proud of the way I treated you,” he said softly.
“It’s okay,” Corrie said, not looking at him. “I got over it.”
“Looks like you did,” he said. “I’m glad you’re happy, Coriander.”
“No one calls me that anymore, Daniel. I changed it to Corrie Ann when I got married.”
“I’m sorry you did that.” Daniel looked away from her.
“Hey!”
A woman’s voice chimed from the door. Corrie turned to see Capri, holding a large shopping bag.
“I got fresh veggies at the park,” she said. “Let’s get cooking. I’m starved!”
14
“How was the meeting with the lawyer?” Bryn was laying dishes on the table when Bob came home.
“He thinks I’ve got a good case for sole custody.”
“So what do you do next?”
“Well, I paid him a retainer and he’s putting together the papers. Where are the boys?”
Bryn smiled. “They’re asleep, actually. I think I wore them out today.”
Bob grinned at her. “See? You can totally do the mom thing.”
Bryn walked to the kitchen to stir spaghetti sauce.
“Thanks for watching them today. I’ll have to work out some kind of day care, I guess.”
“It’s no problem. I had fun.”
Bryn pushed her bangs, sticky from the steam rising from the spaghetti, from her forehead.
“Wendy called three times today. I didn’t pick up the first two, but Micah answered the third time.”
“Oh God,” Bob sighed. “I told her not to call.”
“Well, he talked to her for a minute, and then he said she wanted to talk to you. So I got on the phone and told her you were at work, and if she wants to talk to you in the future, she’ll have to do it through your lawyer. . . . I hope that was okay.”
Bob nodded. “I probably should call her tonight.”
“No, you shouldn’t!” Bryn turned from the stove to face him. “You said everything you needed to yesterday. She made her own bed. Let her lie in it!”
“Daddy?” Cody stood in the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Hey, buddy.” Bob scooped the child into a hug. “How was your day?”
“We had fun.” Cody smiled, relaxing into hi
s father’s arms. “Bryn took us to the zoo, and we had a picnic. And she let us watch Power Rangers and made popcorn.”
“Cool.” Bob smiled at Bryn over Cody’s head. “Sounds like a great day.”
“When is Mommy coming?”
Bryn saw Bob’s back stiffen, then relax. “Not for a while, Cody. You and Micah are going to stay here with me. Micah has to start school next week, and then you’ll go back to preschool. Won’t that be fun?”
“But isn’t Mommy coming back?”
Bob sat down on the kitchen floor and pulled Cody into his lap.
“Mommy is going to stay where she is, Cody. She’s going to live with Luke. And you and Micah are going to live here with me. But you’ll still see Mommy on the weekends sometimes, okay?”
“But my Game Boy is at her house.” Cody stared up at Bob, his eyes round and unblinking.
“I’ll get your Game Boy, buddy. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get all your stuff back, so you can have it here.”
“Okay. . . . What’s for dinner?”
“Bryn made spaghetti.” Bob smiled and ruffled his son’s hair.
“With meatballs?”
Cody looked up at Bryn expectantly.
“Absolutely with meatballs!” Bryn smiled. “Do you want to taste the sauce?”
Bob went to wake Micah, while Cody stirred the spaghetti sauce.
As they sat down to supper, Cody grinned at Micah.
“Daddy said we’re going to live here now.”
Micah looked from his brother to Bob, his face blank.
“What do you think about that, Micah?” Bob asked.
The seven-year-old shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever,” he said, twirling spaghetti on his fork.
“And he’s gonna get my Game Boy and all our other stuff, and bring it home,” Cody continued.
Still Micah said nothing.
“Will Bryn live with us, too?” Cody turned to Bob.
“No, Cody,” Bob said. “I told you, Bryn is just staying for a little while. Just until she finds a new apartment.”
“But who will take care of us after Bryn leaves?”
“I’ll work that out.” Bob buttered a roll. “Besides, you guys start school next week.”
“But who will pick me up from preschool?” Cody’s brow furrowed.
The Weight of Small Things Page 9
